Simple Arithmetic?

 Only a mathematician could ever come up with that!

I've forgotten what the "that" was.  But I remember that an engineer said it.  Now, my knowledge of mathematics can be summed up, generously, by the divisor of an equation that yields a quotient of infinity. But I understood, I think, that engineer's exclamation:  Almost nothing is as abstract--and, therefore, divorced from reality, at least in the minds of many--as mathematics.

If there are things only a mathematician can come up with, then I imagine there are things an engineer would never try or, probably, even think about.  To wit:

To be fair, Sergii Gordieiev's project was inspired by a real-life situation:  He crushed his front wheel on a curb.  That left him, in essence, with half of a wheel.  So that got him to wondering how to ride with half of a wheel.  The solution came from a mathematical equation so simple even I could understand it:  half plus half equals one.  Thus, he realized, he could make a bike run on two half-wheels--on the rear, anyway.

Your local bike mechanic probably can perform all sorts of miracles.  I know:  I've resurrected a bike or two in my time.  (If you're inculcated with the language of Catholicism, it never leaves you!)  But, my old engineer acquaintance said, there are some things only a mathematician could come up with. 

How Many Hipsters--Or Pimps--On The Head Of A Spoke?

How many angels can dance on the head of a pin?

That was, apparently, the question-of-the-day (or -century or -millenium) among medieval theologians.  If nothing else, it tells us that medieval theologians had lots of time on their hands.  Somehow I suspect that modern theologians do, too!

Apparently, some physicists have idle hours as well.  At least one took it upon himself to look for a possible answer to that question through a study of quantum gravity.  Now, I last took a physics class before most of you were born.  So, while I had a lot of fun reading the article, I can't tell you, exactly, what--besides its very premise--made it so amusing.

So now that I've waded into the territory of idle inquiries and can't get out  (a black hole,  perhaps?), I will plunge into another pointless probe.   

Here goes:  Is it possible to be a hipster and a pimp?

Such an inquest is not as impractical as it sounds.  It actually has profound implications for the bicycle world.  

After all, we really need to know whether it's possible to design a bike that will appeal to both a hipster and a pimp!

(Humor me and agree with the previous claim!)

A tiny company in Italy by the name of La Strana Officina may have given us the answer:

 At first glance, it might look like one of any number of "hipster fixies" you can find in almost any first-world city.  But the Cellini Uomo, to be fair, has touches won't find on very many other bikes.

As an example, the frame--made of TIG-welded from Nivacrom steel tubing--is bronzed before it is painted, in several stages.  Care is taken so that the dropout is not covered, and that the matte black paint does not completely mute the lustre of the metal.

The handlebars are 24-karat gold-plated.  So are the cable-housing ends! The handlebar covering on the right side is faux-python leather and the lever is, according to the company's website, of their own design, based on a joystick.

My favorite detail, though, is the gold anodizing on the pedals, which are built around titanium spindles.  The classic Christophe clips are great, but I'm rather surprised that those aren't gold-plated, or at least anodized.  That wouldn't be a deal-breaker for me (assuming, of course, I would buy such a bike).  However, this would:

Even if I were to buy the bike as a wall decoration (in what kind of space, I don't know), I would not want wheels with "bread tie" spokes.  They were a fad, mainly among mountain bikers, about twenty years ago.  I never saw the point of them--and I don't even like the way they look.  (Why they're on a "luxury" bike is beyond me.)  Both wheels of Cellini Uomo are spoked that way.  I guess if you were to order the bike, you could ask for a more conventional spoke pattern.


Somehow, though, I don't think a pimp or a hipster would care.   And either or both of them is the intended audience for this bike.  I'm not. 

Note:  The La Strana Officina website is only in Italian.  I interpreted it as best I could.
 

A Golden Gate To A Jersey Joke

Because I've been around bicycles for ever and ever (OK, since the last Ice Age, at least) and because I have a vivid imagination, I can answer all sorts of "What's that?" inquiries.  Sometimes I find myself doing that for customers in bike shops even though I haven't worked in one in years.

But I have to admit that yesterday I saw something that stumped me.  I was in Bicycle Habitat--where I bought three of my four Mercians--and I saw a bike hanging from the ceiling. 

At first glance, I thought it was just another fixie with a weird paint job.  I saw the "Langster" name  and realized it was yet another iteration of what may be Specialized's best-selling bike, at least in certain urban neighborhoods.  

I didn't mind the color scheme, but the graphics were a bit much for my taste.  But I couldn't help but to notice another strange detail:

When I saw it, I thought of all of those bikes I see with the stubs or bases of water bottle cages, the cage having broken off.  Very often, I suspect, the person riding the bike has no idea of what that piece is, as he or she probably inherited the bike from someone or bought it on Craig's List or in a thrift store. The cage had probably broken off before the person bought or inherited it and the bike probably sat around for years, or even decades.

So I wondered why someone would buy a brand-new bike with a broken-off water bottle cage.  One shop employee explained what it is:

"It's a bottle opener," he explained, "shaped like the Golden Gate Bridge."

"Ohh, I see...", which of course I didn't.  

All right, I thought, I can understand that someone would feel the need to have a bottle opener on a bike. Such a person probably doesn't carry a keyring, much less a pocketknife or any other implement that would have a bottle opener on it. (If that person were really in the know, he or she would have a Maillard Helicomatic tool, whether or not he or she has a Maillard Helicomatic hub!)  After all, such things would not fit into the pockets of a hipster's too-tight jeans--and would poke holes in the pockets of a $200 jersey.

Maillard Helicomatic Tool.  The left side is the world's best bottle opener.

As I was making that completely pointless analysis to myself, the Habitat employee said something that really got me scratching my head:  The Golden Gate Bridge bottle opener, he explained "adds about $300 to the base price of the bike".

"And it's a $600 bike".

"Yes, it is. Believe it or not, we just sold one of those--yes, for $900--to a guy from Jersey." 

OK, I won't make any snide remarks about Snooki's home state--and not just because I lived there for ten years!